


Breathe (Redux)

by loves_books



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-19
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-18 16:42:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3576552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loves_books/pseuds/loves_books
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One, two, three, four, five…</p>
<p>Another two breaths, and still no response. Cursing, Robbie went back to the compressions, all too aware of time slipping past with no sign of help. Three minutes now, or possibly four. And perhaps three minutes before that when James had been trapped underwater. How long had he been able to hold his breath?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breathe (Redux)

**Author's Note:**

> An early version of this story was posted on my lj a few weeks back, but it has since been edited and corrected. Huge thanks to Wendymr who commented on the first draft, and also offered help and advice with this version.

One, two, three, four, five…

Thirty compressions… Breathe… And breathe…

One, two three, four, five…

Another thirty compressions… And breathe again…

Robbie counted under his breath, eyes fixed on James’s pale, still face as he pushed down hard on the other man’s chest over and over again. After thirty, he pinched off James’s nose and sealed his mouth over cold lips, giving another two quick breaths of much-needed oxygen.

“Come on, man,” he begged, back to pushing on James’s chest, trying to ignore the feeling of ribs giving way beneath the pressure from his hands. Trying to stay professional, and trying not to panic. “Breathe, damn it. I’m not losing you like this.”

Another two breaths, and still no response. Cursing, Robbie went back to the compressions, all too aware of time slipping past with no sign of help. Three minutes now, or possibly four. And perhaps three minutes before that when James had been trapped underwater. How long had he been able to hold his breath? How long had it been since his heart stopped beating?

“Come on, James.” Pinch off the nose, breathe into the mouth. Back to the chest compressions, and that was definitely the feeling of a rib or two cracking beneath Robbie’s weight. Damn. 

One, two, three, four, five… Thirty more…

Thank goodness for the endless first aid training that made this all instinctive, even though it had been a very long time since he’d actually had to do CPR for anyone. Not since poor Jane Templeton, way back when Robbie and James had only been working together a short time. Since then, James had been right by his side and had leapt straight into action when necessary, leaving Robbie to call for backup while he breathed for the victim. But not this time.

Breathe…

Robbie hadn’t learnt it like this, all those years ago when he’d first joined the force. Five compressions and one breath, back then. Now, it was thirty compressions, followed by two breaths, or just compressions, if you weren’t happy giving rescue breaths. To the rhythm of that awful Bee Gees song; he’d laughed about that with James, last time they went through the refresher training together, earning a stern look from the instructor.

But now James’s heart wasn’t beating, and he wasn’t breathing, his lungs filled with water, and Robbie had never been more glad of the training that had drilled this into him once and for all, able to run on instinct alone while he tried to get James to take a breath. 

Thirty compressions… Two breaths… Come on, breathe already…

“Help’s on the way, man. You have to breathe for me, James, just take a breath. Just the one. Just for me.” Robbie paused for a second, cold fingers pressed against James’s neck in search of a pulse, then ear pressed to mouth in the hope of feeling something, anything. Even the faintest puff of air would be amazing, but – “Damn it, James. This isn’t acceptable.”

Another two breaths, and repeat. James was so cold to the touch, though Robbie’s fingers were chilled to the bone after his own dip in the river, and probably shouldn’t be trusted. He was starting to shiver hard in the cold February air, the water still lapping at his ankles and filling his already sodden shoes. 

James’s slender body had been heavier than Robbie had expected, and certainly heavier than he’d remembered from the one and only time he’d had to carry the other man, so many years earlier. It had been a burning building, back then, not a freezing cold river in February. He hadn’t wasted time trying to haul the unconscious man fully up the river bank before stopping to find out if James was breathing, and when he realised there was no sign of life, he’d gone to work straight away, trying not to panic. There was no time for panic.

One, two, three, four, five…

Another thirty… Damn it, don’t panic…

“Not like this, James. Please, breathe.” Where the hell was their backup? Robbie had placed the call the very moment the boat had started going down, when he realised their suspect had locked himself inside the cabin along with James. “Come on, now. Please. Don’t leave me.”

James’s lips were blue, his skin like ice. Still no heartbeat, and surely it had been far too long now. Robbie cast a murderous glance over to where their suspect – the man who had tried to kill himself and take James with him – lay unconscious and handcuffed. He’d surfaced first, apparently giving up on the idea of suicide by drowning, and Robbie had hauled him out of the water before laying him out with a single heavy punch when he’d tried to run. Probably broken his nose, though he deserved far worse.

Robbie had snapped on the cuffs and turned, expecting to see a very wet and angry James standing beside him, only to realise in horror that the other man was still in the river. In the boat, which had disappeared beneath the surface.

One, two, three, four, five…

Thirty compressions… And breathe, again, and again…

He’d dived in immediately, of course, the river freezing and murky with silt, barely any light reaching the depths. The water wasn’t fast-moving along this stretch, though it was deep, and Robbie had found the boat soon enough, on its side near the shore. Had found the cabin, after being forced to return briefly to the surface for another breath. Had found James at last, unconscious and trapped, and hauled him upwards as fast as he could. 

Now, finally, the sound of distant sirens reached Robbie’s ears, growing louder by the second. “You hear that, James?” he huffed, leaning all his weight in the chest compressions again. “They’re coming. I told you they were coming – an ambulance, for you, and a van for that bastard over there.”

He sealed his mouth over James’s again, and blew with all his might. Still no response – more than five minutes now, it had to be. Too long. Far too long.

One, two, three, four, five…

Thirty compressions…

Don’t panic. 

Breathe…

Don’t panic, and don’t give up. It had been too long, but it wasn’t too late. It couldn’t be too late.

Breathe, damnit. Please, breathe…

And then, out of nowhere, a cough. James’s previously limp body shuddered, convulsing, and that long neck arched back as another cough produced a mouthful of water. More coughing, more water, and gasping, and Robbie moved as quickly as he could to roll the other man onto his side as James retched up even more of the water he’d swallowed. 

“There you go, James, that’s it.” Feeling almost out of breath himself, Robbie rubbed soothing circles between James’s shoulder blades as the coughing continued. “Just try to relax, man. Just catch your breath. I’m here.”

The sirens were closer now, practically on top of them, and then Robbie could see the flashing blue lights through the trees lining the river bank. James was still coughing, breathless and desperate, but his eyes were open now and he was trying, weakly, to move his arms and legs.

“Lie still, James,” Robbie urged, feeling his body filled with a mixture of relief and delayed shock as the adrenaline started to wear off, now James was finally breathing for himself again. There came the sound of people above them, car doors opening and closing, and he called out to them, “Down here! Medics, quickly.”

“Robbie?” James choked out as his coughing started to ease a fraction, his body beginning to shiver in earnest as the cold wind picked up around them. “Robbie…”

“I’m here,” Robbie told James again, and then again. “I’m here. I’m right here. You’re okay.”

More coughing, less desperate now, before James gasped, “Did you kiss me? Not s’pposed to kiss me at work…”

Robbie couldn’t help the startled, relieved laugh that escaped his lips. If James could joke about that, of all things, then surely he would be just fine, in time. Not feeling the need to explain about mouth-to-mouth resuscitation at that precise moment, he leaned down until his lips were brushing James’s ear, and whispered, “Special circumstances, love. I’ll tell you later.”

And then the paramedics were on top of them, forcing Robbie to move back to let them tend to James, with their blankets and oxygen. He barely registered the blanket being draped around his own shoulders as he answered their quick-fire questions as well as he could, falling back on his training once again and barking orders to the police who swarmed around their cuffed suspect.

The whole time, though, Robbie could barely tear his eyes away from James’s face as the other man continued to breathe, in and out. He counted each and every one of those breaths in wonder.

One, two, three, four, five… 

And when James got to thirty and carried right on breathing, without pause, Robbie finally felt he could breathe again himself.


End file.
